Method in Madness
by claraoswelve
Summary: After a rather unfortunate, soon dangerous meeting with a newly discovered alien civilization, Clara is left fatally ill and confused for reasons she still cannot manage to come to terms with. Discoveries are made, true feelings arise, and both survival and a renewed friendship rely on a few lost memories and a painful secret.
1. Innocent Enough

They wouldn't listen.

Clara's desperation seemed to grow with every struggled breath. She was yet to discover a frustration greater than hearing the same _patronizing _words playing on an agonizing repeat. The lies. The constant lack of understanding. The occasional _She's had a rough day, _or sometimes even, _We'll come back tomorrow. Get some rest, sweetheart. _

But those weren't the words that drove her even madder than what she was already being treated for. No, those words were completely unfazed on her part. Completely ignored. Dismissed. They were unimportant.

What made her wish they would raise her medication dosage wasn't the little comments she received from investigators, nor the sympathetic jabs she received from the occasional daring visitor. It was hearing the same three words. The _same, damn _three words. Over and over. Many times a day it seemed. The excuse placed upon her state. The explanation. The lie that resulted in her howling in rage, in protest, in her pleading nature for _someone to just listen._

"She's mentally unstable."

And there it was. Clara's arguments were ignored. Her weak, hopeless physical attacks frowned upon. Her heart monitor sped up on what felt to be tenfold inside her chest.

Because they wouldn't listen. Nobody would listen to the truth. Her only hope for survival was unable to reach her, trapped in the simplest of facilities. Something that would be acknowledged as child's play to a man of his skill. But not today. And the fact that she didn't know why, or what was happening, only added to her physical and mental pain.

The fact was, Clara was dying.

And if no one would listen, she didn't stand a chance.

* * *

><p><em>A few days earlier...<em>

"Oh, don't start with me!"

"You're the one that's starting it with all that complaining! I'm trying to finish it!"

"Just let it go!"

"I _told you _to get a larger coat, Clara!"

"This is my problem, so why are you even going on?!"

"Because I know you. You'll start whining and crying and begging like you humans always do, and eventually force _me _to give you _my _coat."

"I'm not looking for attention, Doctor."

"I find that unlikely."

The banter was never ending. It was always something that drove the two companions into a flurry of raging words directed at one another. From the tiniest spark of anger resulted in what seemed to be a larger argument each time.

"Listen, I'm not even that cold!" What made it worse, what made it even _more _frustrating, was the noise preventing them from properly scolding each other. The cold, biting wind in their ears only elevated the anger.

"Oh, don't try to act like you're not freezing. It's negative thirteen degrees out here." The Doctor's cheeks were reddened from the icy air, and even he, with his quite amusingly large coat, was considerably cold.

"Well, look at the bright side."

"And what's that?"

"It's positive eight degrees Fahrenheit!" Clara's smirk drove him over the edge.

"It's still the exact same temperature, you pudding brain!"

"I was joking!"

"Yeah." He nodded with a huff and the disbelieving roll of his eyes. "Sure you were."

They walked in silence for several aggravated moments after that. Clara's arms were tucked close against her chest, trying to find some sort of warmth in the faulty, yet fashionable winter coat she'd brought from home. More than once she caught the Doctor's gaze drifting in her direction, only to snap back to focus when she attempted to meet it.

The bickering, at last, came to and end.

At least for the next two minutes.

"I'm not the one that lost the TARDIS." She said with a quirked eyebrow and the twitch of her lips, words coming out in a sing-song sort of mocking tone.

"Shut it." Was the Doctor's short reply. "We didn't lose it, just slightly misplaced it."

"Oh, so its _we _now, is it? Ha!" Clara went wide eyed. "Earlier it was, 'Oh, I'm a Time Lord. Oh, I don't need to mark or even remember where we put our only way of travel. Roar.'" Her voice was low, imitating his thick Scottish tone, and her brow was tucked in attempt to match his bushiness.

"'Roar.'" He clarified incredulously, tilting his head with an exasperated sigh. "Clara."

She simply shrugged. "You seem like the roaring type."

"Okay." The Doctor ran a thickly gloved hand over his aching face. "You're cranky from the cold. I get it. But just shut up for at _least _five minutes, and help me find the TARDIS!"

"_Me_?!" She howled. "_I'm _cranky?!"

"Clara Oswald, just for once, do as you're told!"

The snow dripping from her eyelashes managed to just barely mask the steaming she felt inside. But finally, for the first time she could remember, she admitted defeat and fell silent.

"Bless the gods." He threw his head back in relief.

"Okay. That's it! _You _don't get to-" She was silenced by a hand being pressed against her mouth.

"Shush." The Doctor held a finger to his lips, palm shoved against Clara's closed mouth until she thought she may choke on the thickness. She hummed with growing annoyance, pushing the appendage away and scowling deeply, only to have it return along with another hand on the back of her head. "Really." He warned. "Shush."

Her stubborn nature, as always, never faltered, but Clara found herself glancing from side to side with what little mobility her head was allowed. She stilled her irked movements and released the pressure from where she was shoving the Doctor's side. Several moments passed, filled with silence and an odd sort of wary aura in the surroundings, but nothing showed.

She felt it. She felt the gaze on her back that caused her to burn even in the subzero temperatures. The hair sticking up on the back of her neck, the breath on the back of her head, all the signals that screamed, _Don't look round. _

"False alarm!" The Doctor announced, loudly enough for Clara to jump in surprise the moment his hold on her released. Scowl ever so indignant, she glared at him with the dramatic roll of her eyes, and continued to stomp along his side.

No time seemed to pass at all before the planet's equivalent of a sun began to sink beneath the horizon. The sky was already darkening from its pale blue to a near-blackness. And on top of all that, the temperature was rapidly dropping.

"How much further?" Clara didn't even bother with forcing stubbornness into her tone. She was too tired. Too cold to care.

"How am I supposed to know?" Came the cross reply. "I don't even know where we're going!"

"We've been walking for hours, Doctor." She complained, pausing to relieve some snow from the top of her boot. "Can't we stop for at least a while?"

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow, laughing as he gestured to the solid white landscape. "Stop where?"

Nothing was visible in the mass of nearly knee-high snow. Nothing but hills and piles of white fluff, and the occasional towering glacier placed here and there.

"We're gonna freeze to death out here." She moaned dramatically. "There has to be-" She broke off at the same moment that her forward motion came to a stop. Clara stared straight ahead from her place atop the hill, eyes widened slightly incredulously, and she chuckled. "How about right there?"

Right at the base of a glacier was a perfect hole carved into the ice, looking like it ventured quite deep inside. The edges weren't jagged, nor rough. The entire circumference was smooth as if it were man-made.

"I thought you said this place wasn't inhabited?" She questioned.

The Doctor was already examining the space, running his gloved fingers across the perfectly blue ice, examining every barely existent crack and noting the occasional blemishes. "It's not."

"So, you're saying a perfectly circular cave simply showed up for the hell of it?"

"I'm not saying that at all." He ran the emitter of his screwdriver up and down, side to side, frowning at the readings. "Well, it's certainly not natural, that's for sure."

"Genius." Clara tugged off her gloves and stuffed them deep inside her coat pocket. "Care to join me?"

"Where do you think you're going?" The Doctor pocketed his sonic and crossed his arms.

"Curious about how far inside this thing goes." She explained simply, already venturing deeper into the blackness. "You coming or not?"

"I'm not going, and neither are you." He growled, grabbing the hood of her coat and jerking her back. "I'd rather figure out what the deal is with this thing."

"It's just a cave, Doctor. Not some mysterious force. Nothing dangerous about it."

"That's always what's said right before someone dies in the films."

"What's with you today?" Clara let out a bemused laugh. "I think you're gettin' a bit careless in your old age."

"Being cautious is the opposite of careless!"

"Exactly! You're never cautious, so these things work differently for you." She smacked his shoulder. "For you, _this _is careless. Come on." She grinned mischievously and poked her tongue out between her teeth. "Let's see what's down there, eh?"

His frown remained, but he was definitely considering. Clara detected a certain vibe coming off of him in the moment, from the way he glanced around every once in a while to his reluctance for either of them to go exploring. Even the slight shift in his feet was alarming her, like he was preparing to speed off. She began to ask why he was so jittery, if there was something he'd like to tell her, but her mouth clamped shut in surprise when she caught the Doctor's eye fixed dreadfully on something behind her. But when she spun around to investigate the mouth of the cave, it was merely a man that she saw

"No troops were sent this way." Was the first phrase he spoke, his tone nonthreatening, but simply curious.

"Hi." Clara offered, taking a step back to stand beside the Doctor, but not out of fear. Out of concern for him alone. When she tilted her head upwards to catch sight of his face, the Doctor's hardened, wary, almost nervous features managed to take her breath away.

"What are you doing here?" The man continued to question. Clara took a moment to examine him the best she could with the distance and the snow still clinging to her lashes that slightly impaired her vision. When she looked closer, he was, in fact, simply a man. Not a single alien or foreign look to him. His skin was dark, amplifying the thin solid-white jumpsuit he was wearing. She was immediately impressed as his obvious immunity to extreme cold. He also held a torch in his grasp, free hand stuffed into his pocket. He was completely relaxed, unwary, and at ease.

"Oh, we're just passing through." She explained simply. Once again, the man didn't make a move, nor did he look in any way threatening.

So why was the Doctor's face so grave? So petrified, matching the tenseness in his muscles that Clara could feel through her comforting grip on his arm.

Even when two men walked up behind the other in the exact same clothing, Clara still felt no intimidation. They seemed peaceful enough. She didn't feel any need to worry.

"Come with us, please." The voice was toneless, almost robotic despite the lack of a metallic buzz. Clara's heart picked up a beat, but she simply nodded in compliance, and admittedly, slight curiosity.

Surely they had nothing to fear from such a peaceful looking bunch? She knew that looks could be deceiving; she wasn't an idiot. But if they intended to harm her and her companion, wouldn't they have done it already?

She and the Doctor weren't restrained, simply beckoned with nothing more than a gesture of the leader's head, indicating that they followed. The Doctor was still frozen to the spot, and Clara had to tug on his arm to get him to walk. She questioned him a few times, but he never replied, just kept his gaze fixed on the ground as they followed the trio back out into the blizzard.

_To be continued..._


	2. Refuge

At this point, Clara was considering it a bright side that her feet were hurting her so bad that they were distracting her from the intense cold.

They'd been walking for what seemed to be hours, though she wasn't completely sure how much time had passed. The planet's equivalent of a sort of sun had sunk beneath the horizon long before now, leaving the air even more biting and painful than before.

Clara was shuddering in her own skin. Despite the Doctor's previous prediction, he'd so far failed to hand over his large coat to his shivering companion. Not that she cared, of course. She'd learned not to expect much from that simpleminded stick insect of a man.

Especially now.

His previously impossibly tense figure had finally managed to somewhat relax. His feet were moving a bit quicker than before, no longer needing Clara's coaxing assistance. Still, her concern remained. The look in the Doctor's eyes was one of what could easily be read as a mixture of fright, concern, and utmost worry. Clara had managed to squeeze a few words out of him, but overall he remained quite reluctant to carry on any type of conversation. The bits of almost-sentences he dropped were obviously meant to send off a sort of comforting, reassuring vibe, but they did no such thing. It wasn't as if his voice shook or his hands trembled. There weren't any outward physical signs that caused Clara to worry. It was the simple fact that this man, who'd faced the most frightening, deadly monsters, was even _slightly _concerned about a few men.

The trio up ahead was walking in what almost seemed to be previously rehearsed sync. Almost like they were marching. _Troops, _Clara remembered the leader mentioning. Perhaps they were some sort of military function?

Clara did her best to shove her frustrations aside to a little corner in her mind, then gave the Doctor's ribs a slight nudge with her elbow to grasp his attention. "Do you know where we're going?"

His head snapped sideways and down, looking into her eyes with such surprise she wondered if he'd forgotten she was there. His eyelids fluttered a few times as he drew in a deep breath, shaking his head as if to clear it. "No." He admitted, seeming to gain a bit of his previous coherence.

It was obvious that he knew something he wasn't voicing, but there were genuine signs of a quite rootless attitude in his demeanor. Enough for Clara to decide against grilling him for information; despite how curious she actually was.

So they remained silent. The only audible noise on their trek was the combined whistling of the wind and the chatter of Clara's teeth.

* * *

><p>"So." Clara shuffled her foot in the deep snow, arms crossed as she quirked an eyebrow. "Not inhabited, eh?"<p>

The steep and slippery hill had been the most difficult bit of the journey, but it turns out, it most definitely paid off.

They had a complete aerial view of the city beneath their feet and down the slope a ways. Buildings peppered the solid white terrain over a wide diameter of space. Each structure was the same sort of dull silver, but not quite plain grey. It gave off a professional, sophisticated impression that caused Clara to feel a sudden surge of respect for their escorts, though she couldn't exactly pinpoint why.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" One of the men questioned, the one sign Clara had been given all day that reassured her that they weren't robots or sorts.

"It really is." She kept her tone light, intending every response of her own to be as kind as possible.

Without another word, she and the Doctor were led on. She had to walk sideways a bit to keep her balance as they trekked down the steep hill, relieved when the ground finally leveled out once again.

They still had a ways to go, but Clara was more focused on the beauty of the scene ahead than she was about her own discomfort. It became irrelevant after a while. _This _was the reason she traveled. To see such wonders; such amazing foreign civilizations.

"How did you not know this was here?" Despite her trust for their traveling companions, she kept her voice oddly low. "I mean, sort of hard to miss."

"Wrong date." The Doctor replied simply, brow furrowed in the apparent realization of his own errors. "Quite far in the future, it seems. Last time I was here, this place was nothing but snow."

Now that he was beginning to open up, even if only slightly, Clara felt the need to press a little further.

"Who are these people?" Her voice dropped even lower and she leaned a bit closer to his ear.

"I'm not entirely sure yet." There it was. That look in his eyes. What was he hiding?

"Are they human?"

"No."

She hesitated, knowing she could accidentally lead into a delicate subject. "Are they Time Lords-"

"-_No_." His booming voice was enough to cause her to flinch, but she refused to back down.

"Doctor, just tell me what you know."

"I don't know anything."

"Do as you're told, Doctor, and talk to me!"

"_I don't take order's, Clara_!" He scolded furiously, loudly enough to earn a curious glance backwards from their escorts.

"You do from me, and you know it. Now tell me what-"

"We're here." The voice came from neither of the bickering companions, but from the leader of their suspicious trio. He stepped slightly sideways to gesture to the towering structure up ahead, requesting the Doctor and Clara to cease their discussion and follow him.

Clara looked behind her at the many buildings they had passed, then back forward at the one they were invited into. It made the skyscrapers look like trailer homes.

The Doctor gave a slight affirming nod when Clara shot him an unsure look. The three men remained outside, closing the doors once the duo was secured inside them.

"Now what?" She whispered, admittedly disappointed by the simplicity of the surrounding interior. It looked like a basic earthly... office of sorts.

The Doctor didn't get a chance to reply before a woman dressed in crisp business attire strolled their way. "Hello, there." She greeted, smile friendly. "I'm-"

She was silenced the moment the exposed psychic paper was waved in front of her face. She took it and lowered her glasses slightly down the bridge of her nose, then gave a slight hum and a gaze that whispered _bless. _"You don't need any sort of identification for that!" She laughed and extended a hand. "You're welcome here. I'm Miss Troughton, by the way."

The Doctor shook it, but remained silent.

"And, er," Clara tilted her head and clasped her hands together, trying to keep the question as innocent as possible. "Where exactly is here?"

The woman looked confused. "Are you not seeking refuge?"

"Refuge from-" The Doctor spoke up, then broke off, gaze suddenly drawn to the large letters imprinted on the wall. God he was slow.

"Doctor?" Clara whispered.

_"Chen-7." _He mouthed, deep in thought.

"But this isn't Appalapucia." He hissed, not caring who heard.

"What's going on-"

"And it's definitely not Gallifrey."

Miss Troughton took a bold step forward, chuckling slightly and placing a tentative hand on the Doctor's shoulder. He tensed, but otherwise didn't move. "Well," She began. "I'm guessing you're new."

_To be continued..._


	3. Innocence Isn't Bliss

**A/N: I was unhappy with the original chapter three, so here it is re-written, and hopefully a bit better ;)**

* * *

><p>Did time always tend to pass this way? So slow, drawn out and suspenseful?<p>

Clara's feet were moving on their own accord, fretfully pacing forward and backward, side to side, and occasionally spinning her in a little half circle a she simultaneously nibbled on her thumbnail with her free arm wrapped loosely across her torso. Every now and again, when the timing was appropriate, she shot a sidelong glance across the room to where the Doctor and that Miss Troughton were still deep in their conversation. Clara herself had been dismissed to the sidelines, told patiently to let the experts talk things out. She hadn't managed to put up more of a fight than a frustrated scowl and a few noises of protest. But in the end, she'd succumbed to acceptance.

Not that she would have had much say in the matter, anyway. She kept having to remind herself of that, because at this point she was beginning to regret 'her' decision.

She was desperate for answers. The little bits of scattered information she occasionally received did the opposite of good; just gave her more questions.

For instance, what was _Chen-7_? What was with that cave back on the surface of the planet? Why was the Doctor so afraid of what seemed to be such a kind-hearted civilization? And who exactly _was _the civilization? They weren't Gallifreyans, weren't Apalapucians as she heard the Doctor say - whatever that was - and she got the vibe that they weren't human. But surely there could be tons of humanoid races out there, right? So what was it about this bunch?

Patience growing thin, she let out a long, audible groan with a simultaneous glare at the Doctor. He did no more than shoot her a warning look, then go on with his conversation.

With nothing else to occupy her time, Clara found herself slowly strolling around the premises. The interior was pretty basic. Pale grey walls, a high, a flat grated ceiling, and tiled flooring. A bit of the grout on the rough walls rubbed off into her palm as she trailed her fingertips across the edge. With a disgusted frown she brushed it off on her jeans and flicked the bits out from under her nails.

The only sort of furniture or decor was the occasional lamp hanging on the wall, a corner with a few seaters, and a large desk in the center of the room. A collection of four lifts were closed on the opposite wall, and she desperately began to wonder what lingered on the upper levels. Her surroundings were ominously silent. At first it only seemed apparent that she, the Doctor, and his new lady friend were the only current inhabitants. But all it took was a quick scan a bit further to find three men positioned at each of the three available exits, each clad in the same grey jumpsuits as the previous. Closer inspection revealed that they were completely different men from before.

If Clara thought about it, the area reminded her a bit of a mixture between a hospital and a prison; both equally as creepy.

She had just finally allowed herself to relax into one of the chairs when she was roughly grasped by the arm and hauled back up.

"Innocence is bliss." The Doctor growled, slightly hunched forward so that his height matched hers.

"What?" She shrugged away from his clutch.

"Innocence is bliss. That's the saying, isn't it?"

"You mean ignorance?"

"No. Well, I suppose I am. But that's not what I'm talking about." He shook his head vigorously. "Innocence is bliss."

"Okay?" She raised her hands slightly in surrender. "Innocence is bliss."

"Except it isn't."

"But you just said-"

"Clara." The Doctor grasped her shoulders and leaned in further. Clara's head shot back and she gave him a wary glare. "We need to get out of here."

Finally managing to detect the urgency in his tone, Clara forced herself to be a bit more attentive. She could feel the tenseness in his hands with the force he used to grip her upper arms. She could feel his breath on her neck, quick and shallow, and the hollow look in his eyes that betrayed his concern. He was alert. In the 'code yellow' zone. A bit like he was back in the cave, but a bit more in control, like he actually knew what was going on, and what to do.

"Well then let's go." She lowered his hands back to his sides, already taking a step backward in attempt to beckon him along.

"Except we can't."

"Bloody hell, just get to the point, Doctor."

"You think these people are kind. You think they're friendly, right?" He prompted, one hand slightly raised with his palm upturned as he awaited her predictable reply.

"Well I'm obviously beginning to second-guess myself, but yeah." She shrugged.

"Well they are. That's the problem."

Clara shook her head dully. "I don't understand."

"Kindness. Innocence. It can all be dangerous if you're not careful." Chin tucked, brow lowered, he looked ready to take on an entire Dalek fleet. "Especially when combined."

"Alright. Let's just calm down for a moment." She began slowly. "Yeah? Let's start with a bit of Q and A. Why can't we leave?"

"Look around." He chuckled, waving a hand to gesture to each of the doors. "Guards at every exit, for one."

"Guards?" She hadn't initially taken them to be _guards. _"Okay? And why wouldn't they let us leave? We're not exactly being held against our will."

"Aren't we?"

"We aren't." Realization dawned and her jaw slightly dropped. "_Are we_?"

He shrugged. "Feel free to find out for yourself.

"I'm good." She let out a shaky sigh. "Alright, next question. What's Chen-7?"

"A virus susceptible to only species with a binary vascular system. Kills you in a day. Not fun."

"What are Apalapucians?"

"The only two-hearted species in the universe besides Gallifreyans."

"Okay." She nodded slowly. "But you you said these people weren't Gallifreyans _or _Apalapucians."

"Yes."

"So why are this lot worryin' about Chen-7?"

"Binary vascular system."

"But you just said-"

"The Talahan. The third two-hearted species in the universe."

"What happened to Gallifreyans and those Apawhatevers being the only ones?"

"They aren't."

"Well then why did you say they were?!"

"See?" He flashed a smirking sort of grin. "Innocence is _not _bliss."

Clara let out a throaty growl of frustration in her lack of understanding. "I'm still confused." She admitted.

"See? Innocence is not so blissful is it?"

"It's _ignorance._"

"Not in this case."

"Alright." She sighed, leaning against the arm of the chair. "Explain to me what's going on. What _really _is going on."

"This place?" He gave a slight sideways nod of his head. "A hospital."

"I knew it." She muttered under her breath. "Okay. Because of Chen-7?" She hesitated. "But you said it kills you in a day. What good would a hospital do?"

"It's a refugee base." He explained. "See, the Talahan is a small civilization. Not even vastly known of. So an outbreak of something like a virus could mean genocide." He went on. "This is the heart of the planet. The place most likely to be infected first. So, what do they do? Seclude everyone inside a sterile, safe environment."

"Since only people with two hearts can get it..." She hesitated, face growing grave. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Oh, you don't have to worry about me." He huffed. "The entire planet is sterile."

"Well then what's the point of this place? Why do they think they need it?"

"Innocence, Clara." He smirked. "Innocence.

She didn't bother stressing anymore on that particular topic. "What exactly is it that makes this a hospital?"

"Everyone is given a treatment that _almost _makes them immune."

"You say everyone..."

"And I mean it. When I said a small civilization, I really meant _small._" He chuckled. "The entire species fits in this building."

"But this city is so huge!"

"Families usually don't live together for long. They disperse early on, thus the need for more homes."

Okay. Clara was gaining a bit more understanding of the details here and there, but still was hit with a pang of confusion as questioning thoughts continued to strike. "I still don't get what makes these people so dangerous."

Before there was time for a reply, the distinct sound of heels clanking on tile began growing in volume. "Well, well." Miss Troughton stood just in front of them, hands clasped at her front, two men standing up straight behind her. "Let's get started then, shall we?"

Clara shot the Doctor a questioning look, but his only reply was the softening of his features and a simple, "Innocence, Clara." He sighed. "Innocence."

_To be continued..._


	4. Out of the Darkness

In her usual travels with the Doctor, to Clara all suspicious revelations were made within a considerably short amount of time. Any questions she had; answered. Any confusion; resolved.

But even with all the time that had passed, things were still failing to fall completely together. She still wasn't aware of any sort of danger. She was now much more alert, yes. Maybe even slightly worried. She _acknowledge _that there was _some _sort of danger lurking in the shadows of the refugee base, but her mind was working a bit slower than usual.

Maybe she was just out of practice, she thought. After all, before this particular trip with the Doctor, it had been maybe a month or so since she'd seen him. _Been busy. _Was all he'd said upon finally returning. He hadn't given as much as an apology for his absence, only suggesting he make it up to her with a nice trip to catch up.

It _had _been a bit of a while. Maybe she was just yet to once again become familiarized with the action. The way her brain used to work. The way her time traveler side came out in her deductions.

Clara had barely managed a sentence out of the Doctor before they were forced to part ways. _I'll explain later. _He'd promised, but Clara had immediately detected a secondary emotion lurking behind the hard-set face he wore. Miss Troughton, who was still maintaining her peppy image, had happily granted the two a moment alone together, not a suspicious look to her. _Innocence isn't bliss. _Well, maybe in this case it was.

They were still in hearing range of their loitering escorts by the time the Doctor had managed to grab Clara by the shoulder and lean quickly forward to whisper in her ear, _"Don't let them." _

And now, as she was being led into the lift with a jumpsuit-clad man as her overseer, she was still failing to come to terms with the Doctor's meaning. Don't let them _what_? He wasn't one for being rhetorical. Never had been. So whatever point he'd intended to get across must not have been for their friends' ears to hear.

What were those lot up to? Were they another threatening alien species that had to be warded off? Was this just another one of those days? No. It was different this time. Not that she was any expert, but Clara didn't suspect any criminal intent. _You think these people are nice. You think they're friendly, right? _She wasn't so sure anymore, but the Doctor's words continued to ring in her ears. _Well they are. That's the problem. _

If there was one thing that drove Clara to the verge of insanity, it was being kept in the dark. It was being left without a single helpful answer, leaving her to question her near future with a million worst-case-scenarios swarming through her mind.

Whatever was about to happen, she wanted it to be over with.

She was done being kept in the dark.

* * *

><p>He was beyond worried. He was beyond frightened. He was beyond fretful.<p>

He was bloody terrified.

The Doctor had known the treatment on his own personal being would take mere minutes at the most. It wasn't even a big deal, really. At least it should't have been. Run in, do what needs to be done, then get out with Clara at his side. They should have been out of there in no time at all.

But a much longer amount of time had passed since he'd seen his companion. An hour? Two? He'd lost count. What had happened? Had something gone wrong? Was she even okay?

Everything had backfired. This wasn't supposed to happen. They weren't supposed to have taken her... they couldn't.

The Doctor knew the repercussions of improper medication being given to a certain being. He'd seen it before. Back on Apalapucia. _Their kindness will kill you. _It was a far too true statement. The kindness would kill.

The kindness would kill _her._

_Don't let them. _He couldn't risk the Talahan overhearing his true meaning. Finding out Clara was human would have been worse than her receiving local medication. The small civilization knew nothing of species outside of their own, the only exception being the only other two two-hearted races in the galaxy: Time Lords and Apalapucians.

But Clara was neither of those things.

What was happening now? What was happening up in that room right at that _precise _moment? The Doctor had so many unanswered questions. So many things that he _had _to know.

But the main one would forever be, was she okay?

The lift chimed and he was ripped right out of his thoughts. Okay. Okay. He could take a breath. He could relax. It was okay. _She _was okay. Wasn't she?

"Clara!" The Doctor burst forward. He was at her side by the time she'd only managed one, unsure step back onto the tile. "Clara, what happened?"

Clara blinked several time. She looked to the side, then the other, to the floor, then brought her eyes to his face. She looked startled, almost as if she was just now noticing his presence. Her sudden lack of sureness was more than apparent. Her disheveled bangs fell over her eyes, masking the Doctor's only possible hint towards revelation. He noticed her hands slightly trembled as they pulled her jacket a bit tighter up around her shoulders. She sniffed, cleared her throat, stared at him for a long stretch of silence before finally managing the will power to speak up. "I don't know."

_To be continued..._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Slowly but surely we're heading into the whumpy depths of the story. Bear with me. A hell of a lot of h/c on it's way :3 **

**Reviews are always appreciated. I've not gotten as many as I usually do, but they're my rocket fuel. More reviews mean faster updates ;)**


	5. And Into the Light

Her brain hurt. Was it possible for pain to be inflicted from extensive thought? She wasn't sure.

Clara was unaware of how much time had passed since she'd come back down from the lift. Her mind was in a current state of distress - a feeling she'd never witnessed before. It felt almost as if her brain were made up of thousands of puzzle pieces, and she was working to put them together without an image to go by. There was a gaping hole in her memory that refused to fill. A deep, dark pit with no end. A sense of nothingness; of emptiness. She wanted it to stop.

She wanted to remember.

"Clara."

She felt herself drawn partially out of her silent panicked state as the sound of rapid clicking filled her ears. Her eyes focused a bit more on the sight in front of her; the Doctor clicking his fingers together right in front of her face.

"Oi, I asked you a question." He frowned in a annoyance, simultaneously lowering his hand back down and slapping it against his knee.

"Sorry." Clara cleared her throat and gave her head a brief shake. "What?"

"What do you remember?"

Ah. No wondered she'd spaced out.

"I don't." She stated simply, voice oddly dull as she stared only half-aware into his wide eyes. "I can't remember anything."

"Well then, what's the last thing you do remember?" He prompted urgently, his tone and expression alike complete no-nonsense.

"Talking out here with you?" She began hesitantly, unsure. "Getting into the lift? I'm not sure. I can't..." She shifted slightly against her space seated on one of the lounge sofas with a sudden surge of discomfort. She drew her gaze to the clouded window to her right, biting her lip to contain her conflicting emotions before turned to cradle her head in her hands, elbows on her knees. "I don't know, Doctor. Please, just give me a moment."

"Well you can't have a moment, Clara. Because I need to figure out what's going on right here, and right now." The words traveled fluently at high speed, equally urgent as much as worried as his voice betrayed.

"But _what _is there to figure out?" She looked up and slapped her palms against her thighs, sniffing loudly. "Doctor, what happened to me? And why can't I remember?"

It was the low-toned, sinister female voice that replied. A sound that had lately begun to send a shiver down Clara's spine and send a tingle to her fingertips.

She didn't know why she was scared.

She couldn't remember.

"I can answer that." Miss Troughton piped, innocent and cheery as every. "The memory loss is simply a... side effect so to speak of our anesthetic."

"_A__nesthetic_?" Both the Doctor and Clara announced simultaneously.

The woman clasped her hands in front and gave a friendly, comforting smile in Clara's direction. "Sweetheart, you gave us a bit of trouble treating you earlier. We had to knock you out for a bit." She said lightly.

"_Treating me_?" Her heart was pounding. Her hands began to noticeably tremble. Suddenly, she wasn't sure that she wanted her memory back.

"Yes." Miss Troughton nodded slowly, a bit unsure of the cause of confusion. "That _is _why you're here, remember?" She chuckled. "Perhaps we used a bit too much. Don't you worry. Things will start making much more sense soon. You might not remember it _all, _but a bit of what took place will come back to you in little blotches."

She didn't know what to say. She didn't even know if she wanted to say anything. Clara was scared. She began mentally searching her own person for any signs of defect, anything out of the ordinary, anything that might lead to a clue of the forgotten moments. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't speak out. Her tongue felt numb, her lips too dry to assist her in forming a coherent word.

What frightened her possibly even more was the sight of the Doctor. Her usually brave, strong, unbeatable Doctor.

But now, he was tense. He was rigid. His face had paled dramatically and his eyes were wide fixed on a nonexistent spot in the distance. Clara nudged his shoulder with hers. No, he couldn't do this. Not now. She needed him. She needed his guidance. She needed him go off on some long scientific ramble that she wouldn't understand, but that would put her at ease. She needed someone to tell her it was alright. That they would figure everything out.

Maybe this Doctor wasn't her touchy-feely, bow tie wearing, full on contact idiot.

But he would _always _be her soft place to fall.

And she really, _really _needed that right about now.

"I'll have one of our workers show you to your room." Miss Troughton said, twisting around to beckon a man towards her with the wave of her hand.

"Our rooms?" The Doctor questioned, seeming to be somewhat out of his state.

"This is an in-patient procedure." She informed, once again wearing that expression that showed surprise at such lack of understanding. So much so she didn't even bother explaining further. "I'm assuming you two are content sharing a room?"

"It's fine." He dismissed immediately, not even seeming to completely hear what had been said. "It's fine."

Clara decided silence was the best option for that moment. She was perfectly content listening to arrangements being discussed, noting the way the Doctor seemed to be struggling to stay in control, but dismissing it. After some stretch of time had passed - not really caring how long - she felt herself being tugged up slightly be her upper arm, and tilted her head back to catch sight of the Doctor's gaze boring into hers as he struggled to bring her out of her state.

"Come on." He urged until she rose to her feet. "We need to go."

She was thankful when his grip never loosened. She wasn't sure if it was intended to be comforting or controlling, but it didn't really matter. Clara allowed him to lead her away as they followed their escort up the lift, and to their assigned bedroom.

* * *

><p>"Clara."<p>

No.

"_Clara._"

No. She didn't want to wake up.

"You stupid little human. Come on."

Sleep was so much more peaceful. So much less troublesome...

"Clara!"

And with that, she was jolted out of her content oblivion with a start. Clara shot straight up into a siting position, fingers twining into the bedsheets and breaths coming out ragged as her head turned rapidly from side to side.

"We're leaving." The Doctor's quiet, harsh, persistent voice brought Clara's attention to his face. It was shadowed in the partial dimness but she could still easily make out his expression: Anxious, concerned, and most _definitely _betraying his hurry.

Still only half conscious she slowly managed to inch her legs over the edge of the bed, shuddering as her bare feet his the cold tile and she rubbed some sleep from her eyes. "What's going on?"

"I need to get you out of here." He hissed, and somehow that was the end of the conversation.

The Doctor flung Clara's shoes onto the bed at her side while she worked her coat onto her shoulders. It took considerably longer than she would have liked, her hands oddly shaky as her tired fingers worked at the zipper. With a groan of frustration the Doctor shot forward to yank the zip up, then roughly grabbed her shoulder and hauled her to her feet. "Hurry up."

Slowly but surely her senses were coming back to her at the speed of her steadily regaining consciousness. The little light bulb in her mind finally managed to switch on, and she felt a huge sense of urgency and dread wash over her as they started for the lift.

"We have to be quick." He explained, hands working their way nervously through his hair as he impatiently waited for the doors to slide open.

"Won't there be guards or somethin'?" She questioned, at last on full red-alert.

"I don't think so. The only reason they were positioned during the day was due to basic protocols. But this lot doesn't exactly have any reason to keep people in or out. They _assume _everyone actually _wants _to be here."

Clara was struggling to keep up, but merely gave a nod and allowed the Doctor to lead her out the lift and through the large space of the lower level. The doors were in sight, no guards were at arms, and only their two pairs of footsteps were audible in the surrounding silence. It was an easy escape.

She still didn't quite know just what it was that relieved her so when they shut the doors behind them. She felt a bit of a safer surrounding aura, one of security even in the harsh snowy temperatures. While Clara was content standing there, admiring the feel of the biting wind against her face and the snow flakes filling her hair, the Doctor briskly yanked hold of her hand in a no-nonsense matter. "Move!"

* * *

><p>"Ma'am, two of the patients have escaped through the lower level exit."<p>

"Well, let's not say _escaped._" Troughton rolled her eyes. "They were free to go. They weren't being held against their will."

"But... the girl..."

"I know what I said." The woman rested her elbows on her desk and laid her forehead in one palm, rubbing away the building stress-ache in her temples. "Did you take the blood sample I asked you to when we knocked her out?"

"Yes."

"Good. Analyze it, will you? Bring the results to me when you're finished." She earned a curt nod in reply, soon left alone once again. "Something's off about that girl."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: *dramatic music***

**Okay. If you've followed any of my previous fics, you know how persistent and quick I usually am with updating. Well I've been sick as hell for the past two weeks and it's hindering a bit of my imagination. There's my excuse right now. Let's see how long I can hang onto it.**

**Rocket fuel's running on half empty. Review a bit to give it a boost :)**


	6. Weakness

The first hour or so of agonizing, on-foot travel could only be described as _dull. _

The Doctor and Clara trudged through the shin-high snow in a heart clenching silence. Once they'd set out on a proper route not a single word had been muttered, not a thought voiced. Clara's mind seemed oddly blank as she kept her stare dead ahead. She didn't bother to pick her boot-clad feet up high enough to clear the snow, instead sent it flying forward as she shuffled through the thickness. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear every now and again, but otherwise kept her hands stuffed deep in her coat pockets.

Meanwhile, the Doctor's mind was absolutely racing. On a normal occasion, he'd accept the silence. _Cherish _it more like it. In his old age he'd become more accustomed to the quiet, and less to the consistent chatter of a certain brunet companion.

But now, that silence seemed louder than ever. Like there was a voice in his head screaming at him; trying to tell him something. Not that it had to, really. He didn't need voices to tell him how worried he should be.

And he most _definitely _had a right to be worried. He knew that more than anyone... more than her. That though sent a pang through his hearts, reminding him how oblivious Clara still really was. She knew something was wrong, but she still didn't know _what. _

The Doctor knew he should tell her. Knew he should have a good sit down and explain everything. Pour his hearts out... and beg for forgiveness. And oh, was he going to need it.

But he couldn't. How could he possibly tell her the truth when she may never forgive him after she knew? Sure, she'd figure it out on her own eventually. It'd be sort of hard to miss once the full effects set in. The guilt consistently gnawing at the Doctor left him confused and dazed. He wasn't sure what to do... how to react... or if he would even figure it all out himself before time ran out.

"Do you even know where we're going?"

The sound of her throaty voice drastically caught him of guard. He had to physically clear his head before responding. "I've set the sonic to track down the TARDIS." He explained, gaining the bravery to steer himself a few feet nearer to her.

And then that was it. The silence was back. Only this time it lasted mere minutes.

"Are you cross with me?" Clara asked suddenly, slowing her steps gradually until she was at a complete halt. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight slightly to the left, and let the wind whip her hair across her face as she stared up into the Doctor's icy eyes.

His already furrowed went deeper than before. "Why would I be cross?"

She shrugged at first, crossing her arms a little tighter around herself. She turned to face the direction they'd come from before looking at him again. "Because of the way I acted back there." She gestured backwards with her head. "It wasn't..." She broke off. "Sorry."

"Clara, you reacted perfectly normal to a quite stressful situation." He mused, taking a single step closer so he could properly look into her eyes. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"But that's just it. I'm not supposed to react _normal, _am I?" She countered. "I'm no beginner. I've been traveling with you for a long time. I had no right to just... freeze up like that." She scowled, clearly searing with self-aimed anger. "It won't happen again."

The Doctor grabbed her shoulder and spun her back around to face him once she'd attempted to set off again. "No, Clara. Stop thinking like that."

"What the hell is wrong with you? You're the one always telling me to 'Stop it with the eyes', or 'Give you some attitude'." She hissed. "Well this is me stopping with the eyes and giving you some bloody attitude. I have no right to be frightened. Who cares what happened? Who cares what they-" She silently cursed herself as her voice began to crack. "Who cares what they did to me? It doesn't matter, does it? Let's just find the TARDIS and move on with our lives."

He fell silent. She had a point in a way, he supposed. Even when Danny had died the Doctor had been less sympathetic than usual... and far less than even now.

"Don't think I don't know you're hiding something from me, Doctor." She muttered under her breath, shifting away. "But I'm not weak enough to let that bother me."

"But Clara-"

"I took the stabilizers off my bike. Just like you said." And somehow that was the end of the conversation.

They walked on for what seemed to be an eternity, the Doctor no longer granted with Clara's chattering company. The silence was back and dull as ever. Time seemed to pass much slower than it should with that annoying but prospering presence he'd grown so used to.

The planet's equivalence to a sun was slowly beginning to hover higher above the horizon inch by inch, and it hit just how long they'd been active. Hours alone since they left the hospital, but only a brief rest had been allowed between now and the previous day. For possibly the first time ever, the Doctor began to curse his natural Time Lord ability to be less susceptible to the aches and discomfort that came with long stretches of walking and running.

Because Clara was _not _as blessed.

Her pace had slowed even considerably more than before, now accompanied with the occasional stumble or the lull of her head every now and again. She was tired. No, _exhausted. _But she obviously wasn't far too keen to admit it.

"We're almost back to that cave. We can stop there for a while." The Doctor promised.

Clara didn't orally reply, just gave the sullen nod of her head and tucked her arms closer to her chest. The now hard shiver erupting through her body was now more than apparent, as well as her failure to brush away the thick coat of snow that now settled in her hair.

"You're tired." It was a statement, not a question.

"I'm good." She dismissed simply, forcing her stride to quicken as if to prove a point.

The Doctor just sighed with annoyance and held his tongue until their shelter was in view. He was sure Clara wouldn't appreciate his noticing in her deeply relieve expression, and the way she just seemed to collapse forward on her feet through the opening.

"The days here are still pretty dim, so we should be able to get some sleep." He cast a glance back at the way they'd come. "But not too long. It'll only start getting colder out here."

Clara didn't even give any sign that she'd heard him. She was already leaning against the the frighteningly cold stoney wall, sliding down with her back pressed close against.

"Tired?" The Doctor prompted, smiling teasingly.

"Doctor, we've been walking for hours. Yes, I'm tired."

"I thought you were 'good'?"

"Shut it." The Doctor was relieved beyond relieved upon hearing the tint of laughter in her voice, and allowed himself to smirk as he pressed further.

"Clara, Clara, Clara." He slid down the wall as she had and seated himself at her side, nudging her shoulder with his. "Get some sleep."

"You really expect me to be able to sleep on this?" She pat the rough ground.

"Oi, it's the best I can do! I can't exactly provide a five star hotel right now."

"Yeah, whatever." She smiled slightly, having to try harder than she would have liked to keep her eyes open. "You get some sleep. You're the one having to navigate us through this place."

"The sonic is doing all the work for me."

"And that's the time you're supposed to take the credit and do as you're told." She shot him a glare, then tilted her head back the other way so he wouldn't see the exhaustion lingering in her gaze.

"Clara, look at me a moment."

"Why?"

"Just look at me."

"Why?"

"I want to show you something, look!"

With a little groan, she twisted around to stare into his eyes, her own widening when he saw his extending finger hovering in front of her face. He pressed it right against her forehead and she felt her mind go blank, her eyelids slip closed, and her body slump down sideways.

"You need the sleep more than I do." He stared down at her with the impecable shake of his head, grasping her by the shoulders to lay her body outstretched across the floor. "Sleep well." He closed his own eyes, the consistent pang returning. _You're going to need it._

_To be continued..._


	7. Explanation

The attempted journey back to full consciousness seemed to be a never ending battle. Clara felt a force; an inward force in the depths of her mind that seemed set on the mindset to keep her from wakefulness. Each time she attempted to lift her eyelids, it was like a palm pressing right over her vision, physically coaxing her back into oblivion.

She wasn't sure quite how long had passed when she finally managed to wake. The first conscious sensation she was his with was a huge gust of biting cold, like millions of iced pinpricks across ever inch of skin. Her brow furrowed and she extended one hand to her side, curling up on herself as her fingertips explored the iced over stone floor. Clara shuddered and withdrew the appendage, tucking it close to her chest and rolling on her stomach in desperate hopes of conserving a bit of warmth.

"Hey."

She felt several repeated taps on the back of her head, accompanied by a deep, rumbling voice groaning her name.

"Clara, time to wake up."

"No." Her voice was higher pitched than intended, sounding whiny and weak.

"Clara." The voice called again, hand sliding down until it reached her shoulder where he gripped to shake her whole body. "Wake up."

The moment she had enough coherence to identify the source of noise, Clara forced her eyes to open. "Doctor?" She mumbled groggily.

"Bout time." Now that she could see his face she felt a bit more at ease, like she could breathe again without a heavy weight pressed against her chest. She wasn't sure why his presence made her more comfortable, but she was grateful for it.

"How long was I out?" Her voice was slurred in it's lack of a full extent of capability in her still only half-aware state. Heaving a sigh she propped herself up on one elbow and swiped her long bangs out of her eyes, blinking until her eyes adjusted to the light.

"About sixteen hours." The Doctor eased himself into a sitting position at her side once she'd brought herself upright, leaning against the cold wall. "I would have woken you sooner but you seemed happy, so I just left you." His gaze turned slightly grave, drifting towards the cave entrance where nothing but a whimsy flurry of white was visible. "That _might _have been a mistake." He sighed. "Blizzard. Not sure when it'll end."

"So we're stuck here, then?" It wasn't as much of a question as it was a clarifying statement, filled with a sudden diminish of hope. "It's freezing in here! How long until we can go?"

"Clara, I can do many things, but I can't predict the weather." He reminded with the roll of his eyes. "My guess would be about another day. You'll survive."

Clara thought she detected some secondary emotion lingering behind his last two words, but didn't stress on it.

"Hang on." She said after a moment. "Did you say I was asleep for sixteen hours?"

"Yep. Gave you a little nudge in that direction, yesterday." He winced. "Might have gone a bit too far."

"So you-" Her hand went to her forehead where her fingertips drifted across her hairline disbelievingly. "You knocked me out!"

"No, I projected an image of peaceful sleep into your subconscious to induce a state of perfectly articulated rest." He waved a dismissing hand in the air. "But if you'd like to call it 'knocking you out', go on ahead."

"That's not okay!"

"You were on your way there anyway; you were exhausted. I just gave you a little nudge in the right direction. You _should _be thanking me."

"I will _not _thank someone for pokin' around in my mind without my permission!" She cried. "That isn't bloody okay!"

"Language." He reminded.

The Doctor went on listening to Clara's scoldings for what seemed to be beyond the length of hours. Eventually, he just tuned everything out, trapped in his own mind and consuming himself with his own pained thoughts.

He'd purposely given Clara a few extra hours of much needed sleep, as well as giving himself a split second of exploration into the depths of her hidden emotions.

She was scared, he'd realized. Scared but determined. Determined not to _admit _she was scared; a dangerous approach to the intents of coping. Despite what she'd previously stated, he was more than aware of her unease. He didn't need to look into her mind to know that. She was still confused and frightened, plagued by unanswered questions of her missing memories. He detected dozens of different scenarios swarming like pesky bees through her brain, not any of them good or in the slightest way positive. Even her dreams, which he'd slowly monitored off and on during her slumber, were teetering on the edges of nightmares while even her subconscious tried to solve the mystery.

And it wasn't just a suspicion, he knew. Clara could sense something. She was aware and clever enough to know something was _physically _off. He could only imagine how frustrating her lack of understanding must be, and was once again drawn back into his own persona battle of what _he _was going to do.

It would be mere hours before the full effects of the treatment hit, and by then he would most certainly owe an explanation if she hadn't already figured it out on her own at that point. Should he wait? Wait until her worry could only turn into a caution to a sudden fear for her life? Wait until she's begging for answers because she _knows _he's not telling her something. Or should he get it over with... apologize for making a horrible mistake, and hope she'll forgive him?

A few more minutes of stressing passed before the Doctor was aware of the sudden lack of ringing in his ears, and looked over to see Clara had fallen silent once again, her reprimanding, angry side all drained out. Her knees were tucked against her chest and her hands rubbed roughly at her shoulders in attempt to subside the shivers that were wracking her body.

He knew he'd never hear the end of it, but that was for once the least of his worries. With a sigh of defeat the Doctor shifted to one side to extract his arm from his coat, then the other, before widening it to its fullest capacity and draping it over Clara's shoulders.

"I thought you weren't under _any _circumstances gonna give in?" She laughed out, and he noted the fact that she pulled the material tightly around her instead of arguing. "Let it be known that I _never _asked."

He chuckled, extending a hand towards her face and brushing some loose strands of hair out of her eyes with an outward demonstration of casualty, but he allowed his fingertips to stray just long enough across her temple for him to receive a brief imaging flash of her thoughts. At that moment, he was only reminded of his urgency. Clara's worry was obviously increasing, and he even sensed her subconscious considering reaching out to him personally for guidance. But it didn't seem that she was quite ready for her streak of demonstrated confidence to draw to a close just yet.

After a bit her shivering subsided to the occasional shudder, but the cold wasn't the only source of her discomfort.

"How long will it take us to get to the TARDIS once we set off?" She questioned. "I'm starving over here."

The Doctor just grinned that mischievous, knowing grin he always flashed, and reached into his jacket pocket to withdraw a small rectangular packet. "Took these before we left. Non toxic, non hallucinogenic, perfectly safe. Not too horrible tasting either."

"You could have given me this before!" Clara snatched the bar from his hand and tore into it with ravenous force.

"I've got more for later too, but we should keep them rationed. Just in case we're out here a bit longer than we thought..."

"How long will it take us to get to the TARDIS?" She repeated over a mouthful.

"Well, that depends."

"On?"

There it was again. That slightest hint of unease. "Many things."

Clara blinked up at him them looked back down at her food, considering. "Doctor." She hesitated. He tilted his head curiously, one eyebrow quirked in question. "What do you know?"

His face twisted slightly, as if in deep, confused thought. "How do you mean?"

Clara had been a bit suspicious beforehand, but was yet to gather up the courage to speak her mind until now. "What aren't you telling me?"

She once again detected that flash of... something else. Not just that he was hiding something, but the tiniest show of... what was it? Terror?

"Doctor." Her voice was harder this time, and she was suddenly filled with a surge of determination. With a lowered brow and the nervous twitched of her fingers, she demanded again, "What aren't you telling me?"

"Clara..." And then, it was as if a barrier was lowered. His true emotions began to show, unaccompanied by any resistance. It was all clear. "We don't need to talk about this right now." He was obviously wrestling with his words judging by the way he fumbled over them.

"You know what happened to me..." Her jaw dropped and her eyes stretched wide. "You know what they did!"

"No, as far as what they specifically did I don't know any more than you." He promised, dropping his head. "But I know what it means."

"You bloody liar." He didn't dare scold her on her language this time. Clara kept her back pressed against the wall as she rose to her feet, taking a few steps sideways as she stared down into his troubled eyes. "You _bloody _liar! You've known all along!"

"Clara listen to me." The Doctor hauled himself up as well, hands held slightly in the air. His face was grave, apologetic, and _scared _all at the same time. "Please just hear me out."

"I sure as hell am going to hear you out!" She was surging with anger, face contorted into a frown and hands clenched into tight fists. "_Tell me what you know._"

"It's..." He hesitated. "It's complicated."

"It's not that damn complicated! Tell me what you know, Doctor!"

"I can't!"

"Why not?!"

"I just can't!"

She was backing away from him now, as if she were frightened. "Doctor."

"I'm sorry."

"No." She shook her head, face tense. "No, you're not allowed to do this. If you know what happened, I am _entitled _to know as well."

"Clara." He took a desperate step forward, his face cradled in one palm. "I've made a mistake." His fingertips slid down across his face, once again betraying his hurt features. "I am so sorry."

"You sure have made a mistake! This is low, Doctor. This is _really _low."

"Alright." He bit his lower lip. "Yes, yes you have a right to know. Just... sit down."

"I can take a bit of news. I'm not sitting down."

"Clara." His eyes were sparkling with emotion. "Please sit down."

"No!"

"I know you don't want to sit down, but you _need _to sit down."

"And why's that?" She demanded.

He gave a forced, sympathetic smile. But it was still so pained. "Your legs are shaking."

Clara's face didn't register any surprise, but she moved one hand behind her to press against against the wall for balance. "Okay?"

"And you _need _to sit down." He begged. "Now."

"I'm fine." Her expression suddenly changed from one of indigence to one of discomfort as she began to sway. "I'm... I'm fine."

"I'll explain everything. Just please-" The emotion was coming out in his voice now, his hand trembling as he held it out in front of him. "Sit down before you hurt yourself."

"Doctor..." She was properly scared now, and her in-place steps grew a bit more unsteady. Clara stared at the floor before flickering her now tired gaze up to his. She was frightened. She was confused. Her need for an explanation had suddenly diminished in her worry for her own condition. "What's going on?" The fact that his expression never changed, never wavered, stayed it's apologetic, depressed tone only frightened her even more. Her chest heaved as her breathing sped up and her pulse thumped wildly. She reached a hand to one side, then the other, trying to find something solid to lean against.

And then she was falling.

_To be continued..._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Alright, you whumpers out there. Now we're getting into the good stuff.**

**Leave a review if you like. Give a girl some feedback ;)**


	8. Kept in the Dark

Nothing was real.

None of this was real.

Nothing was wrong. She was okay.

This wasn't really happening.

He had gone over the mental calculations again and again; a thousand times over. This shouldn't have happened so quickly.

He should have had more time.

He _needed more time. _

The angered and ferocious pang shook him to the core and threatened to drive him to the highest peak of insanity. His thoughts were filled with 'What if's, and 'I should have's, and the constant 'Why didn't I's.

Because why hadn't he acted sooner? Why had he allowed more than a short break? He'd known they were short on time; maybe not _this _short, but he shouldn't have taken the chance. He should have prepared for the worst. He should have woken her sooner and set off before the blizzard hit. Maybe then they would have made it back to the TARDIS in time before...

No. He knew better. If they'd left sooner he'd be caught out in a blizzard right about now with an unconscious companion limp in his arms and the safety of the TARDIS still miles away. But... could he have made it? Possibly? What if he had taken the chance? What if they _had _made it back and time and avoided all this...

With a sigh, he shook his head. _No. _

The Doctor couldn't bring himself to sit any closer than a few feet away from where Clara lay sprawled out against the cold floor, eyes contently shut. From where he watched, he almost thought she looked at peace; the way her hair dangled in front of her eyes and she curled on one side, a soft sigh escaping her lips every now and then out of what he wished to be some sort of contentment.

But he knew better. Everything was beginning. He'd waited too long, he'd taken too much time, even whilst knowing the inevitable consequences.

He screwed up.

_Again. _

The Doctor kept his eyes trained on her yet to pale face, savoring the last moment of outward peace that he would probably experience from her for a long time. Even from her state just minutes ago she seemed to have improved, but he was well aware it was just a matter of time. Oh, how he longed to rid himself of the same gut-wrenching memory over and over again.

He was pretty sure both of his hearts had come to a complete stop when he saw Clara begin to wobble. He'd blessed his Time Lord reflexes in his ability to dash forward, nearly missing his chance to catch her in the split second she threatened go fall straight against the stone ground.

He'd hooked on arm around her waist and held her flush against him, delivering several light taps to her cheek in a desperate attempt to rouse her.

_Just wake up. _He'd silently begged. _I need more time. _

He didn't pause to scold himself for allowing his bottom lip to tremble with emotion as he'd cradled the back of her head in one hand and gently eased her to the ground. He sank to his knees, hands flying to her neck. His fingers shook as he'd pressed them carefully against her pulse point, the rapid beat beneath the sensitive skin thudding against his fingertips. It had taken everything in him not to scream with rage, to bang his forehead against the wall until the sadness left him.

So instead, he'd scolded himself. _She's not dead. _He had to remind. _You just have to get her back to the TARDIS. You have time. _

That was probably the only bright side in the moment, he thought to himself, mind drifting back to the present. He and Clara did have time. Days even, although, he knew how much her health would deteriorate in that time.

The trip home was not going to be easy.

The Doctor dared himself to venture closer until he was sitting cross-legged at her side. His hand hovered just above her head, desperately wanting to allow his fingertips to curl through the tendrils of her hair but denied himself that contact.

He knew she would be furious with him when she woke. She'd see the touch as an invasion of privacy; of space. He couldn't bare to anger her more than he already had. He still hadn't had the chance to explain. And he was absolutely dreading that moment.

But it seemed that the universe wasn't exactly on his side in that moment, because he didn't have time to plan any further. His sensitive ears picked up the sound of the change in Clara's pulse and breathing, and when his gaze flew quickly to her face he saw her eyes struggling to open.

She was scared. The moment she was even semi-awake and aware, he could tell she was terrified.

Not just terrified, but confused. He saw it on her face. Saw the worry in her eyes when her attempts to sit up failed with the wobble of her arms. She fell painfully back against her side and the Doctor felt like crumbling when he detected her tears threatening to spill.

She didn't call his name. She didn't break down. She didn't beg for an embrace or a comforting speech, she didn't reach out for him or ask him to break a habit.

The only words that came out where a simply, croaking, "What's wrong with me?"

And that was all it took for the Doctor to fall apart.

* * *

><p>Clara couldn't exactly describe her emotions.<p>

She was scared, that was all she knew. No... she was far beyond scared. She was in a daze. An intense state of unease; of confusion.

_She didn't know what was happening. _

Her voice cracked uncomfortably as she spoke out through painfully chapped lips. The emotion that shown in her eyes was one of accusation, anger, but tinted with a worry and sadness that drew her to hoarsely ask, "What's wrong with me?"

She wasn't entirely sure what it was about those words that caused the Doctor to visibly tremble and draw his gaze from hers, but she was growing more and more eager to find out.

She needed to know what he knew.

She _deserved _to know what he knew. Especially after being kept in the dark for such a long time.

The Doctor's face was grave and reluctant, his hesitation to talk apparent.

"Doc..." She winced and cleared her throat when the attempted voicing was barely audible. "Doctor." She repeated, and her voice remained soft as she asked cautiously again, "What's wrong with me?"

His eyes sparkled with an unclear mixture of anger and a sort of mental pain. Was he angry with her?

No. That part was clear.

He was angry with himself.

"You need to sleep. Get up your strength." Was all he said, his words toneless as he gestured to the cave entrance, noting the ebbing blizzard. "We need to get moving soon."

Clara's head swam and her whole body seemed to ache, but after a mental pep-talk she managed to prop herself in a strained sitting position against the cave wall despite the Doctor's feeble protests.

"Stop it." He growled, pushing lightly at her collar bone with careful fingertips. "Get some more sleep. I'll wake you when it's time to go."

Was he really trying to dodge the topic again? After everything that had just happened, in the midst of everything was feeling, both emotionally and _physically, _"Don't I deserve to know?"

"No." He hissed, but his face fell. "Yes... but... Clara. It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"It just isn't."

"That's not fair."

"Clara..."

"Don't you-" She broke off as she felt the makings of a cough tickling her throat, but worked to suppress it. "Don't you _Clara _me. I want to know what's going on."

The Doctor still didn't reply.

"Doctor." The itch grew stronger and before long she was halfway crunched sideways in a lengthy coughing fit, her fingers moving in small circles on her sternum as she waited for it to ebb. "Doctor." She repeated after it passed, but no more steadily. She began to see stars prickling the corners of her vision. "Do you care about me?"

He finally met her as and spoke a quiet, "Of course."

"Then listen to me." Her voice tightened and she felt as if someone were pounding away at her head with a mallet. It took much pent-up energy to force the next few words out. "I don't know what's wrong with me right now, but I know that it's not good. And you know what?" She sniffed. "I'm bloody terrified right about now. If you care for me at all then you'll tell me what I _deserve to know_." She blinked several times. "And quickly."

Filled with a tiniest sense of urgency the Doctor was brought partially out of his state, his lips parting, but the words refused to surface.

And suddenly, Clara began to understand.

It wasn't just about what was wrong with her.

There was something else he was keeping hidden.

Maybe it was the desperation in her brown eyes, maybe it was the way her bottom lip trembled and marked the threat of tears spilling over, or maybe it was her shaky voice alone that finally coaxed him into talking.

It was like a waterfall when he finally began to speak. Once the first word escaped his lips, the others tumbled out all at once.

"You were dosed with high amounts of a foreign medication that is dangerous for humans. It was engineered to slow the effects and symptoms for those infected with Chen-7, and in some cases even cure them completely. Sort of managed to wipe the whole 'one day plague' title." He laughed, but his heart wasn't in it. Soon again his entire features drooped. "The counter-effects work quite literally... making it extremely dangerous not only to humans, but anyone without a binary vascular system." He forced a pained smile. "The combined effects make you quite sick for reasons I don't prefer to get into right now."

"So." She cleared her throat. "Basically I've been poisoned?" Her head felt heavier than usual, lulling down every few moments.

The Doctor tried not to take notice. "In a manner of speaking, yes."

Curling her knees to her chest as a shudder began to send a chilled wave through her body, she went on. "Why couldn't you tell me that before?" She blinked. "I'm dying, aren't I?"

"Yes." There it was. So much spoken behind just one word. There was more than what he was saying.

"Doctor, I've faced death with you every day for years now. You know better than to think I'm so petrified by the idea of death."

There was so much more she wanted to say. So many more questions she'd been dying to have answered. So when her eyelids began to involuntarily droop, she felt a pang of frustration.

"What aren't you telling me..." Her words were slurred, like she'd ingested a bit to much alcohol. When her body began to sway she was only half aware of the Doctor gripping her shoulders, muttering something in her ear.

"We'll worry about that later." His voice suddenly seemed very far away. Where was he going? Clara didn't want him to leave.

But his hold on her shoulders reminded her he was still there, and she felt comfortable enough to allow him to take her weight in his arms and lay her head back down on the floor.

She had so many more questions.

But she was just so tired. Maybe a quick nap would help clear her head...

_To be continued..._


	9. He Knows Something

"Clara."

Was she in the middle of an earthquake?

"Clara, time to wake up."

The ground was trembling... or maybe that was just her.

"I'll smack you if I need to. I've learned your ways. Wake up!"

Her eyes reluctantly slid open to reveal the lanky, crouching form of the Doctor hunched at her side, one hand roughly giving her shoulder a shake as the other delivered a series of light taps to her cheek.

"Doctor..." Clara's voice was strained and croaky and she squeezed the front of her neck in hopes of ebbing the effect. "What do you want?"

"I'm getting a bit paranoid about the weather." He admitted. "We need to get going."

As of yesterday the simple thought of rising to her feet would have drained all color from Clara's face. But while a headache still nagged and a cough rose in her chest she no longer felt the dreadful sense of weakness and vulnerability. She even managed to sit up without excessive difficulty.

"I'm feeling much better." Her voice was laced with disbelief, her gaze fixed on nothingness out of awe.

"Well you would, wouldn't you?" Satisfied that she was fully awake the Doctor had risen back up and taken a few steps away, plucking a few of his discarded pocket contents from the ground.

"Does this mean I'm getting better?"

"Far from it."

And just like that, the tiny sparking light of hope that flared in her heart was extinguished.

"Oh." Her face fell and her head hung low, and she suddenly felt very weary.

The Doctor cast her a sidelong glance amidst his ministrations and considered a sympathetic apology, but no such words escaped his lips. "The effects will sort of come in ways." He explained seemingly distractedly. "Slowly you'll feel worse and worse in between each one. Usually it'll hit so hard you'll black out along with it. Shame, really; I'm hoping I won't be stuck carrying your deadweight through a blizzard."

"You know, your bedside manner has really diminished through the night." She frowned, only just managing to mask her fears with snarky comments.

"I'm not your nursemaid."

"I'm not asking you to be my nursemaid." _I'm asking you to be my friend. _

"Good." With his back pressed against the wall in waited he held up an upturned palm to demonstrate his impatience. "You about ready?"

Clara knit her thin brow and any hint of even a playful smile was sucked out of her expression. What had happened to the caring, concerned, _fretful _man that had knelt at her side just the day before? She much preferred that version. Had she dreamed it all?

In her slight boost of health, whether it be real or not, she was once again filled with the urge to lock herself away and protect all emotions from the outside world. Protect them from _him. _Last night, he'd seemed different. More caring; more trustful. A man she no longer minded showing her light side to. But if he was defaulting to his old ways, so was she.

Face hard-set, Clara slid her palm against the wall until she had found a good placement for a firm, only somewhat steadying pressure. Feet working their way underneath she attempted to straighten but immediately faltered. Her body chose that exact moment to force her into a coughing fit as well which in no way assisted her stability. Her hands flew to the wall in a desperate search for something to hold onto but were only met with endlessly smooth stone. "Doctor..." She called breathlessly, and for an instance she thought she was being ignored.

But then arriving as swiftly as a ghost he was at her side and Clara felt herself gathered up in his strong arms. He kept a tight grip on her her wrist and leaned until he held most of her weight against his side.

Maybe he was being a jerk, but he'd still never let her truly fall.

"Sorry." She muttered breathlessly, letting him hold her up until she'd managed the barely existent strength to mostly stand on her own. If it was this tiresome to merely get up off the ground, Clara was dreading the miles long trek through nearly knee-high snow.

The Doctor must have caught her gaze drifting warily out the cave entrance and gave her hand a reassuring, extra tight grip. "We can take breaks when we need to and I'll be right beside you. Don't worry."

Alas, she smiled. Whatever had gotten his demeanor in a wad had clearly vanished.

His assistance was much needed, Clara realized. Her first several steps were hobbled and accompanied by many frustrated curses and scowls, but soon her pace evened out and she could somewhat manage on her own.

But that definitely didn't mean she wasn't grateful for the support. When she took her first step onto the unfortunately _deep _snow, she nearly fell.

"Wait." She ceased her movements before they were even completely out of the shelter. The Doctor twisted his face in confusion as she let go of his arm and shakily began to work at the zipper on her borrowed coat.

"What are you doing?"

"You need more than that to keep you warm." She said, gesturing to his basic black, red-lined coat that he wore so often. "You've got nothin' but a jumper on underneath. You'll freeze."

"Clara, I'm less susceptible to the cold than humans." He laughed, as if stunned by her stupidity.

"Well then why'd you bring it in the first place?" She questioned, hitching one brow. "Hmm?" With his sleeves cut short she could already see the obvious gooseflesh rising on his skin and the slight shudder he gave during lack of motion. "Listen, even without this thing I've still got more to bundle up in than you do."

The Doctor sighed. She must really be feeling better if she could go on arguing like this.

"You need it more than I do." He chivalrously knocked away her hands and zipped the wear back up to her neck. "Come on. According to the sonic we've only got about a two and a half mile walk. I'd rather get there before another storm."

Clara intended to frown, but it looked more like a childish pout.

"Do as you're told. Let's go."

Clara's face stung from the prickly air that lapped at her face with each gust of wind. A good portion of their time was spent with closed eyes to prevent thick flakes from clouding their vision, but the wayward specks that clung to their lashes didn't do much good either.

Every now and again, they'd have to stop. Clara would find herself doubled over with a trembling palm against her mouth as the raspy coughs persisted further. They were becoming more and more painful with each fit.

The Doctor was reluctant to stay in one place for two long and was usually pretty quick to urge her on, but still remained mindful of her condition and was sympathetic as an egomaniac two-thousand year old man could allow himself.

They set off again and Clara's legs began to ache with the effort, and she grew to be panting for breath a bit to soon than she would have liked. She considered herself to be pretty in-shape; she had to be with all the running around she did. But right now she was just about as useful as a shrub.

She focused on no more than her own two feet beneath her and absentmindedly ran her hand in circles on her sternum, hoping the action might ease away a bit of the pain.

"Chest hurt?" The Doctor questioned, catching her movements from the corner of his eye.

"A bit." She sniffed. "Probably from all the coughing."

"Probably." His voice was tinted with disbelief, but Clara wasn't exactly in the mood to interrogate, at least not on that specific topic.

"Doctor, why did we come here?"

"What do you mean why did we come here?"

"You never exactly explained why we came to this specific place..." She began, unsure of whether to go on. "And you've been sending... er... mixed signals."

His jaw was set firm, teeth nearly clenched as he spoke dryly. "Mixed signals?"

"You seemed like you didn't know about the Talahan, or the hospital; or even that this place was inhabited. But-"

"But _what_?"

"But you did. There was no way you got all of that information in a two minute conversation. You already knew, didn't you?"

She'd never seen such an immediate switch in demeanor. Immediately, he was back to his old self, tense and rigid, reluctant to talk.

"Doctor."

"We don't need to talk about this right now." He hissed with such darkness in his tone it made her flinch.

"You're right." She raised her brow. "But we're talking about it later."


	10. Selfish Truth

They were at the peak of the coaster. The figurative edge that marked the downhill flow of all happenings. The moment that everything already teetering would begin to plummet. A return trip? Possible. Likely? Not that much.

Because Clara was going down fast.

She could barely stand anymore. The majority of her strength had given out long ago, and the Doctor was left supporting the majority of her weight. For such a small woman, the deadweight was still more of a burden than he would have thought.

"We can sit down if we need to." Those few words were the most frequently spoken in their previous joined hour, because she _constantly _seemed to need a rest.

She'd insist she was fine again and again, constant comments about him 'worrying to much' or pulling her hand away from his grasp with a 'I can stand on my own, thank you'.

But she couldn't.

It got to a point where Clara got tired of arguing. Whether she would admit to a need of help or not she no long protested when the Doctor would hook a steadying arm around her waist or sit her down for a good two minutes for a necessary breather or pause a minute to take a quick look in her tiring eyes before continuing on.

"We're not too far." He promised. "Doing okay?"

"Mhm." A full coherent word seemed to be a bit too much of an effort to Clara at the moment. Any conversations were mostly one-sided, her only input being the rare mumbled or murmur and the extra clenching of his hand so he knew he'd been heard. Her feet dragged deep lines through the snow with each shuffling, unsteady step. Her coughing fits would send her sprawling to her knees in agony and she would clutch at her chest until it finally would subside. Each time the Doctor would be there, holding her up and rubbing her back, a hidden side finally revealing itself that had been tucked away for too long.

The side that cared.

When they hit the more rocky uphill terrain movement became a bit more of a chore. Stumbles were more frequent and pained gasps were heard when one would falter onto their knees against the stone.

"How much further?" It was the first verbal sign of Clara's discomfort he'd received since their trek had begun.

"Er... I can see the TARDIS." He began. "Bit of a climb."

"Didn't have to... climb when we got here." She said rather breathlessly, head beginning to lazily droop to one side.

"We took a quicker route. Didn't think to scan for obstructions." He scratched the side of his head with a wince. "Oops."

With his grip on her hand the Doctor could feel Clara's pulse thumping wildly beneath the sensitive skin on the underside of her wrist. Her head lulled as if she didn't even contain the strength to hold it above her shoulders.

"Clara, stay with me. We're almost there."

"I'm so tired..."

"I know. Look at me." He palmed her cheek with one thickly gloved hand and forced her gaze to his. There was such a dull aura to her eyes, her previous fiery light gone. "I don't know that I could carry you all the way up that hill but we don't have the time to wait around for you to wake up. _You _don't have that time. Five more minutes. Just stay awake five more minutes. I know you can do at least that." He felt her attempting to straighten, attempting to focus, attempting to return the fierceness and determination she'd become so accustomed to. But maybe merely nodding was a bit too much of an effort as well, because next thing the Doctor knew Clara was a near deadweight in his arms.

"Oh, no you don't!" He was squeezing every last bit of consciousness out of her that he could possibly manage. "No sleeping. Not yet."

Clara's eyes were only half closed but her slim body slumped forward with the weight of her own exhaustion from where she sat propped up against the stone. She in and of herself was working as hard as her frail form would allow to hang on at the precipice.

"Atta girl. Stay with me." Deciding the gloves were a bit to much of an obscurity he tugged them off with his teeth so his hands had a bit more freedom. When Clara began to slump forward again he caught her face with both readied hands- and completely froze.

She was burning.

"We need to go." He shoved his palm beneath her bangs to lay flat against her forehead as he helped her stand back up. "You should have told me you had a fever."

"You'd only start panickin' more..." She slurred.

"Come on." With her arm draped around his shoulders and his own clasped around her waist he felt a bit more sure of their position and began to start up the incline. Their moves were faltering, unsteady and uncoordinated, but paid off just in the nick of time.

Clara had nothing left in her. The moment they stepped into the warmth of the box she went completely limp in his grasp.

"No, no, no. Come on." The Doctor cradled her fall and shakily lowered her frail form against the ground. Her thick clothing came as an unnecessary obscurity to his evaluating ministrations so he picked her upper body off the floor and eased both jackets off her shoulders until a mere unsightly t-shirt remained. "Hang in there." He whispered clutching her hand to somehow alert her subconscious that he was near. "I'm so sorry." She was a complete deadweight when he lifted her into his arms. He could have taken the time to shift her but didn't spare it. The medical bay wasn't too far anyways.

She looked so small with her limbs dangling and her hair strewn out, gravity taking control leaving the strands dangling towards the floor and swinging with every step the Doctor took. She looked so young. So innocent.

So much like she was sleeping; not dying.

The whiteness of the bedsheets made her already flushed skin seem to glow and every colored inch of her form to sharpen in the light.

_She doesn't deserve this. _He thought with an inward pang. _She does not deserve this. _

He still owed her so much. So many explanations. When she woke, he knew very well she wouldn't be in her most perfect mind. But even that wouldn't stop her from questioning. How long could he dodge the inevitable?

How long before he would have to admit the selfish truth?

_To be continued..._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry it's so short and that an update took so long. I have a lot going on.**


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